


Burning Desire

by npse



Category: Fireman AU, Swimming RPF
Genre: AU, Fireman AU - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-30
Updated: 2013-06-08
Packaged: 2017-11-17 09:12:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/npse/pseuds/npse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fireman AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It’s not hard to fall asleep at work. Not anymore. Not when he knows that there are people looking out for him and everyone else. That kind of realisation really settles a person, makes them more comfortable and ease. In Ryan’s case, it makes it easier to sleep. That’s what they were supposed to do during their shifts, relax until they were really needed. Conserve their energy. It was Ryan’s favourite part of the job - aside from working with the guys, that is.

Ryan was lucky enough to be part of a small team, of anywhere between six and ten, with some of his best buddies that happened to include his best friend of all time. He used to wonder what it’d be like to work all day and night with your friends and now he knew – it was awesome.

They hung out all day, playing cards or table tennis or some stupid game that they decided to make up. It was immature to say the least, but it was a lot of fun.

As it was, Ryan was curled up on one of the single beds in the station’s resting room. He was stupid enough to have a particularly big night the night before and was nursing a killer headache that was only just starting to subside. The sudden heat wave in the city wasn’t helping his level of comfort any, despite the ceiling fan spinning at what seemed like 500 miles an hour just to give him some cool air. Ryan groaned quietly to himself, bringing his hand to his forehead and feeling the beads of sweat that resided there. He rolled lazily from his back to his stomach, letting his face bury itself in the crisp white pillowcase. That seemed to help.

There was a gentle knock at the door and Ryan swiftly closed his eyes in an attempt to feign sleep. He was certain he’d closed them just in time, but by the sounds of the gentle footsteps into the room, he hadn’t fooled his intruder.

“What?” Ryan grumbled, his words muffled by the pillowcase.

“I knew you weren’t asleep.” Ryan didn’t even need to look, the voice was enough for him to know who it was.

Ryan could practically see the smirk in Michael’s words, despite having his eyes closed.

“What do you want?” He groaned in annoyance, bringing his arm up to cover his eyes.

“We’re eating popsicles.”

Ryan opened his eyes, peeking from under his arm. Sure enough, Michael stood to the side of his bed, an orange popsicle in his mouth.

“Did you bring me one?” Ryan couldn’t hide the small chuckle that escaped with his words.

“Yeah,” There was a crinkling of paper before Michael nudged Ryan’s arm. Ryan groaned involuntarily at the need to shift positions, rolling onto his back and sitting up slightly, leaning back against the wall. 

“I know you like the green ones, but we only had orange left… Orange is the best though, so don’t worry.”

“Thanks man,” Ryan took the popsicle from Michael, watching as the first drip of orange liquid made it’s escape down the slowly melting block of ice and onto the stick before he made a pre-emptive strike on the rest of the popsicle, shoving the entire thing in his mouth for a few moments before removing it.

Michael sat on the edge of the bed adjacent to the one Ryan currently occupied, biting the top off his popsicle and chewing it carefully.

“It’s hot.” Ryan complained, shoving the popsicle back in his mouth. He let his head fall back against the wall, watching the fan spin as Michael laughed quietly.

“It’s always hot,” He retorted.

“Not this hot.”

“Dude, we work in the heat. This is nothing.”

That was true. Ryan and Michael had been through heats ten times this one and would continue to go through them until the day they retired.

“It feels hotter than usual though. It feel hotter to you?” He glanced at Michael, who was halfway through his popsicle.

“Nope.”

Ryan sighed. “It’s definitely hotter.”

“Maybe it’s that helmet of hair that’s got you thinking it’s hotter.” Michael joked.

“It’s not a helmet.” Ryan said a little defensively, reaching up to touch his hair semi-self-consciously. Michael had a point, it was longer than usual and when Ryan’s hair reached a certain length, it ceased being hair and turned into a curly monster of fluff that looked stupidly hilarious at all times. Usually his hair was short, as per station regulations, but it had been a while between haircuts. “Not like you can talk anyways, your hair is just as bad.”

“You’re such a liar.” Michael said with a smile, knowing deep down that his hair wasn’t as bad as Ryan’s. Sure, it was long and a bit scruffy, but he kinda liked it that way. Michael didn’t fuss over his looks too much, but he took notice of his hair every now and then and decided that longer hair suited him better. Despite rules stating they needed short hair, the team hadn’t done a haircut challenge in a long time, so they were all looking kinda dishevelled. If any high ranking members came around, they’d all suffer.

“It is so. You got this ‘surfer dude’ look going on and it doesn’t suit.”

“Whatever, Darth Vader.”

“Like a puppy. Puppy Phelps.” Ryan teased.

Michael shook his head, laughing, “You suck.”        

“ _You_ suck.”

“C’mon, who’s the guy who brought you a popsicle?”

He rolled his eyes, “Fine, I guess you’re alright. Even if you gave me shitty Orange.”

“Don’t make me fight you about which flavour popsicle is the best, man. You know I’ll beat you.”

“Bring it on,” Ryan challenged playfully, biting into his popsicle with a defiant smirk.

“You’re on.” Michael smiled at Ryan, about to suggest a game of Need for Speed on Xbox to settle the debate, when a high-pitched shrill bell started to ring relentlessly. Despite himself, Michael could feel the hairs rise on the back of his neck. There was a sound of rushing outside the room, the door that was still ajar giving the men a tiny insight into the organised chaos reigning outside.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,“ Ryan began to whine, only to be cut off by someone pushing the door to the resting room open even more. It was Nathan, one of their team mates and also their friend.

“Not a drill guys. Apartments on 52nd street. Pretty serious apparently – needs all three engines.”

Ryan and Michael were on their feet almost instantly, rushing to the door and after Nathan, abandoning their playful challenge and popsicles in the bin by the door.

“How long?” Ryan asked as they followed Nathan to the changing rooms.

“No one noticed until it broke through the windows, so who knows how long it was brewing inside.” Nathan replied, shoving his legs through his overalls.

The three of them dressed as fast as they could, surrounded by the rest of their teams, all in various states of readiness for their work. Michael finished dressing first, donning his helmet. “C’mon everyone, hustle – let’s move!” He shouted, clapping his hands to rush the younger men in the room. “Uniform, helmet, engine. Go, go, go!”

It didn’t take long for the men to dress and rush to their assigned engines, the room emptying until it was just Ryan and Michael ushering the last of the recruits out. Michael jogged to the front, leading the way for the newbies to their engine as he and Ryan climbed in the front of engine three.

Ryan keyed the ignition, hearing the rumble of the heavy duty engine and quickly hit the sirens, pulling out behind the other engines and charging down the streets after them. The adrenaline was coursing through Ryan’s veins, mixing with a decent amount of fear and worry. If it wasn’t so terrifyingly deadly, his job would almost be exciting.

“You alright, man?” Michael asked, watching Ryan drive.

“About as ‘alright’ as I can be.”

“Just don’t get distracted.” He warned.

“I know what I’m doing, Mikey. I’ve been doing this for a while now,” He grunted as he turned a corner a little faster than he would have liked, almost losing control. It was only a few moments before they were out the front of an apartment building, the upper three floors completely alight. The sight of the building on fire made Michael swallow hard and Ryan mutter a silent curse.

“Everybody out!” Michael called, taking charge for the first time since he’d joined the team. Their usual leader was off on his honeymoon, so it was Michael’s time to take charge. _What a rough starting job,_ Ryan thought to himself, his gaze once again traveling up the building to the flames licking at the bricks.

“Gather ‘round here,” Michael demanded as the new recruits followed Ryan’s gaze and stood, petrified, by the engine. Ryan felt like he was 80 years old being part of such an inexperienced team and was itching to get into it, but he knew Michael needed his back up here. Besides, the two other teams were already working hard on getting it under wraps. It might be a waste of time, but it was something the recruits needed on this first job.

“I don’t have much to say, guys – except stay safe. You’ve done the training and you know how to do this. Don’t freak out. Look out for one another, stay in contact, don’t be a hero. If there’s anything that’s gonna get you killed out here, it’s being a hero. Wait for confirmation before doing anything stupid. If you’re not sure if something’s stupid or not, contact Ryan or myself. Chances are, if you don’t know whether it’s stupid or not, it probably is, but you’re better off hitting us up.” Michael joked, getting a few chuckles from the recruits, who seemed to be on edge but not nervous.

“I believe in you guys,” He said, suddenly serious. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t think you could do this so get in there, do your jobs, do them right, stay safe so you can get home to your families.” Michael dismissed them, watching the five recruits fan out, two to the truck for the hose, one to the hydrant, two to the door of the building to speak with the investigating team. Michael reached into the engine to grab his helmet, only to notice Ryan’s still there too.

“Lochte!” He called, even though Ryan was still relatively close by.

“’Sup?” Ryan asked, as casual as ever.

“I know I said you’ve got a helmet of hair on your head, but there’s nothing wrong with double the safety.” Michael announced playfully, pulling out Ryan’s helmet and plopping it down on his friend’s head.

“Thanks Cap.”

The two of them smiled - even though he wasn’t Captain, not even close.

“Phelps, Lochte – over here! NOW!” One of their superiors screamed from the team centered by the door into the apartment building. Michael leaned into the engine once more, grabbing his own helmet before jumping down onto the asphalt. He followed after Ryan, neither of them knowing what the heavily set, moustachioed superior could want with them.

“We think the fire started on the 18th floor, but we don’t know what room. It’s your job to find out what it was so we can start getting this mess cleaned up. We’ll keep the outside under control, so hopefully we won’t have any collapses inside.”

“But-“ Michael started to say, but Ryan spoke over him.

“Not a problem, sir.”

A curt nod was the only thanks they got. They turned to each other, Ryan offering what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

“You know we’re not prepared for this, right?” Michael spoke quietly.

“I know.”

“This potentially could end really badly.”

“I know.”

Michael nodded slowly, biting his bottom lip gently.

“Ready to rock it then, man?” Michael asked, his voice a little shaky.

“Always.” Ryan answered with a confident grin.

Michael held out his fist to Ryan, who knocked his against it almost instantly. They shared a brief smile before turning to face the building. That knock of fists was a ritual between them. Something they shared before every job they ever worked together. A sort of good luck charm. Except, this time it was more than that. This time, that simple gesture of friendship, that knock of fists, was a silent promise to stay safe and as they entered the apartment building and started to ascend the stairs, it became clearer to Michael that they needed all the help they could get when it came to staying safe.

**

The stairs are ruthless, all 18 flights of them. Both Michael and Ryan could be considered fit guys, but by the 13th flight of stairs, they were starting to feel the pain. Michael’s thighs burned with the same intensity that a marathon usually induced, but it was a welcome distraction. Being able to focus on his pain meant he wasn’t thinking about the imminent situation and their lack of ability to handle it. Ryan powered ahead, at one point two floors in front of Michael before he slowed his pace, feigning exhaustion but Michael knew it was because he didn’t want to leave him alone. It made him smile a little and push himself that bit harder, not wanting to let Ryan down.

“How you doin’ back there?” Ryan asked as he finished another flight of stairs, turning to see Michael only just beginning them.

“Good,” He puffed, reaching out to steady himself on the rails. “Sweaty, actually,” he grinned up at Ryan.

“Don’t worry, only two more left.” He consoled his friend, giving him a pat on the back once he met him at the top of the stairs.

“Two more flights?”

“Only two.” Ryan promised.

“Alright,” Michael let out another heavy breath. “Let’s keep going, then.”

Ryan grinned. “Lead the way, Cap.”

Michael rolled his eyes, even though the title made him smile just the tiniest bit.

Somehow, knowing there were only two more flights made Michael speed up, desperate to get out from the claustrophobic stairwell and into the main building. The fact that they were there to work continued to disappear and then reappear in Michael’s mind at the strangest moments, times when he considered taking a break to catch his breath or when he was joking with Ryan about collapsing at the end. It was kind of selfish of him to be moving so slowly when people’s homes were at risk here – their entire lives in material possessions possibly going extinct in the time it was taking Michael to climb 18 flights of stairs. It was this thought that made Michael jog up the last flight, passing Ryan on the way up and allowing himself a minute to catch his breath as Ryan finally met him at the door into the main building.

“You ready?” Michael asked him, “We can wait a little longer.”

“Nah,” Ryan shook his head, reaching forward for the door handle, “I’m good. Let’s go.”

To say that he was unprepared for the sight infront of him would have been a gross understatement. Ryan had seen fires before, but as he pulled the door to the stairwell open, he couldn’t help but feel his breath catch in his throat. The whole of the wall opposing the door was exuding a grey smoke that gathered at the roof and greedily started to make its descent down upon the rest of the room. Ryan quickly slammed the door shut, turning to Michael.

“It’s not pretty in there. We need to get the hoses up here, like now.”

“Damn,” Michael reached for his radio, calling in that the hoses should make their way up to them as fast as possible. Once the order was through, they could hear the door to the stairwell crash open all 18 storeys below them, followed by frantic jogging. They knew that soon enough the impeccable speed with which their colleagues were moving at would soon falter, the weight of their uniforms and the hose, along with the never ending stairs taking their toll, but it was reassuring to hear them so close.

“Michael,” Ryan spoke quietly, pulling him from his thoughts. “We need to go in there.”

“You said it yourself, Loch, it’s not safe in there.”

“No, I said it wasn’t pretty.” He clarified in that condescending tone of voice he sometimes adopted, knowing that Michael wouldn’t like it. He could tell by his best friend’s expression that he didn’t like it. “Look, what if someone is in there?”

Michael’s expression turned even more serious than before.

“Is there? Someone in there, I mean. Did you hear someone?”

Ryan swallowed hard. “And if I did?”

“Then we have to go in there,” Michael’s voice rose slightly, eager to get in there and sort the situation out for himself. He pushed Ryan out of the way of the door, grabbing the handle and wincing a little as it warmed under his touch.

“What?” Ryan asked, noticing the wince.

“It’s hot.” Michael glanced at Ryan and they shared a knowing look – a hot door handle meant the fire had escalated in the moments they’d been arguing. Anyone still in there now was in serious danger and it was up to them to keep them safe.

“On three,” Ryan prompted, putting a reassuring hand on Michael’s shoulder. He knew the man didn’t need it, but a little support never hurt anybody.

“One.”

Michael breathed, in through the nose, out through the mouth.

“Two.”

His hand tightened around the door handle, appreciating every lungful of clear, safe air he was getting.

“Three.”

They burst through the door, only to be confronted by vicious flames licking the outside of the wall that opposed them, the wall that only moments ago was still safe. Despite years of training and experience, nothing prepared them for the immense heat radiating off what seemed like every surface. Ryan glanced at Michael, who motioned for them to split up. They both went separate ways, Michael working slowly through the left side of the floor, which held two apartments and a storage closet, and Ryan working through the right, which contained the three separate apartments that were converted to make one large, expensive home, but also a monstrosity to search in a hurry, which judging by the intensity of the fire, was what he was currently in. There was no time to waste in this search. If there was anyone in this building, they needed to get them out. Now.

Michael broke into the first apartment, and another wave of smoke billowed out the front door. Either the fire began in this apartment, or the one above it. There was no mistaking it.

“Hello? Fire Department – anyone in here?” He called, his voice catching in his throat a little causing him to cough lightly. Damn. The smoke was starting to get to him, his eyes welling up just a touch. He moved further into the apartment, weary of going too far just in case this was the apartment the fire originated in and the structure wasn’t as sound as it looked. He repeated himself as he went, calling out for anyone to make themselves known. He heard nothing.

“Nothing in here,” Michael reported over the radio.

“Right on,” Ryan replied, his focus on the task at hand as he moved stealthily through the large apartment. “Doesn’t seem like there’s anything in here either.” He commented, kicking open a door only to discover it was a broom closet. “I guess the rich guys weren’t home. Maybe I didn’t hear someone up here afterall.” He thought aloud, retracing his steps back to the front door of the apartment. Ryan paused before leaving, an impressive entertainment system catching his eye. “Hey, think I can snatch their xbox without them noticing?” He joked, eyeing it off even though he wouldn’t dream of touching it.

He expected a witty retort, or even the faintest hint of Michael’s infectious laugh, but what he received was much worse. There was silence on the other end of the radio. Ryan tried to ignore the small buzz of nerves that jolted in his stomach. “Michael?”

He waited a few moments, hearing nothing but silence and the distant roar of the fire. Ryan moved toward the door again, a little faster than before, repeating Michael’s name into the radio. “Mikey man, come on, talk to me.” He spoke, the slightest twist of desperation in his words as he edged toward the left side of the floor.

“For God’s sake, Ryan, shut up.”

Ryan breathed a sigh of relief, his eyes falling shut for a split second as the words bounced through the radio and into his ear piece.

“I think I hear someone.”

The grateful breath Ryan had swallowed up seconds before, escaped almost instantly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I think there’s actually someone up here.” Michael’s voice down the radio sounded worried by calm. Good. Calm was good in situations like this.

“I’m coming for you man, what apartment are you in?”

“The second one. I tell you what though man, you thought the hallway was bad, it’s worse in here. It’s-“ Ryan could hear Michael cough through the radio as he moved past the door to the stairwell, which burst open with his colleagues and the water hose.

“Oh thank God,”

“You’re glad that the fire sucks in here?” Michael asked incredulously.

“What? No – the hose is here. I’m coming for you now, man.”

“Shhhhhhh.” Michael hushed him down the line, and for some reason, Ryan also hushed the men behind him wielding the water hose.

“What is it?” He whispered, taking small steps toward the second apartment on Michael’s side, despite himself.

“I think…”

“What? Is it someone? Is there someone in there?” Ryan’s voice rose with a certain amount of hysteria and worry – the fire was getting worse, threatening to break through the roof any moment now.

“Oh God.”

Just as the words hit Ryan’s ears, a different, more terrifying noise stole his attention away. A noise that caused his stomach to flip and his heart to race and his muscles to tense. A horrible creaking echoed through the floor, causing Ryan to break out into a run toward the door of the second apartment.

_No,_ Ryan prayed to himself, _No, no, no._

Ryan barged against the door to the second apartment, breaking the door open just in time to see the roof give way, collapsing in on the whole apartment and send him flying backwards with the force.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only just finished this like half an hour ago. As always, I've read over this too many times for me to be able to notice all the flaws, so sincerest apologies if things aren't worded well or whatever. Any and all mistakes are my own. Sorry again for the long wait, but I hope it's worth it. I'm still not sure how many chapters I'll have to this fic, but the plot is beginning to take shape and I'm getting a real direction about it so hopefully I'll know soon. Anywho, enjoy and comments are always appreciated! :)

Within seconds, some of the other men had their arms around his arms, shoulders, chest, pulling him back from the apartment. Ryan was fighting their grip, screaming out that he had to go in there, had to help Michael, he couldn’t abandon him like this, but their hold on him was non-relenting. He managed to fight his way to his feet, his heart begging him to run into the apartment and find Michael and get him out of there, but his mind and his body keeping him where he was. His eyes jumped frantically between the two teams of men spraying water over the fire that had burst from the room since the roof collapse.

The fire was ruthless. It was burning through the walls and the door just as easy as it burned through the roof above it, the smoke crawling through the whole floor now that the fire had escalated. Ryan stood transfixed by it. He watching in awe and horror as fire swallowed up paintings, furniture, clothes, people. The thought of Michael trapped in that room, smoke swirling around him and fire threatening from every possible angle made Ryan’s chest tighten and his heart ache. He had to help him. He had to _save_ him. He’d gotten him into this mess, lying about hearing someone up here, and now he was going to save him. He had to.

Ryan broke out into a run, throwing caution to the wind.

“Goddamnit, stop him!” Someone shouted from his left, probably someone manning the hoses, and sure enough someone tackled him from behind mere seconds later. The pain of a heavy body on top of him made him angry and he fought back as hard as he could.

“Get the fuck off me, man!” Ryan growled, pushing against the body and trying to wiggle out from underneath it.

“Calm down!” The voice said. Ryan couldn’t care less who it was, only that they were stopping him from saving Michael.

“Get the fuck off,” he repeated, “I’ve gotta help Michael. I’ve got to-“ Ryan’s voice caught in his throat, not from smoke, but from emotion. “He’s stuck. I have to help him. It’s my fault.”

When the weight lifted off him, Ryan thought that perhaps his pleas had gotten through to his colleague. To his dismay, instead of the body on him, two hands gripped him by the collar and wrenched him upward, dragging him out into the main foyer of the floor and directing him toward the stairs.

“Go.” His captor demanded, a voice filled with anger and annoyance and complete unfamiliarity that made Ryan want to punch him. Who the fuck did he think he was telling him what to do? “ _Now_. Cap’s orders.”

With a push, Ryan was shoved into the stair well, where the smoke was so thick and heavy that he had no option but to oblige. He hurried down the stairs, his feet moving quickly as he rushed to find air easier to breathe. His eyes burned from the smoke, his cheeks damp from unintentional tears, his throat raw from coughing. Ryan started taking the stairs two at a time, desperate to break free from the confines of the stairwell and see just how bad the damage was upstairs. The fact that the smoke was descending so far down the building would have been worrying, if Ryan’s mind wasn’t consumed with the thought of getting out  into the fresh air.

A wave of hysteria hit Ryan like a steam train, causing him to break out in a run to get down the remaining seven flights of stairs, his throat burning for clean air. As he broke out of the stair well, he slammed against the door that lead out to the street, breathing deeply and coughing roughly as he caught his first lungful of fresh air. He breathed shallowly, desperate to fill his lungs with something pure and clean, but none of them seemed to even brush the surface. He couldn’t breathe properly. Fighting for breath, Ryan bent over, resting his hands on his thighs as he tried to inhale deeply. He was only minutely aware of the people calling his name or the hands that inevitably grabbed at his body and dragged him toward an ambulance, his mind growing hazy with lack of oxygen.

“Ryan, you have to calm down,” A female stated as she placed a mask over his mouth, “I need you to calm down. We need to get some air into your lungs, but we can’t do that until you calm down.”

Ryan nodded, but couldn’t stop gasping for breath. He needed air more than anything, so much that his lungs were burning for it. He couldn’t bring himself to speak either, his words trapped by a gasps that were coming more frequently and ending far too soon, resulting in little more than increased need for air. He gripped the wrist of the woman who was near him, his mind growing hazier and his vision turning blurry around its outsides. He was aware of people speaking, calling his name, saying things that he should reply to. He could feel a sharp stab in his arm followed by a stream of warmth seeping through his veins. It swam through his body, awakening his every muscle. He became acutely aware of his surroundings, his eyes focussing in on the woman tending to him. She was blonde and beautiful, with worried green eyes and plump kissable lips that hung open slightly, in a concerned pout.

“Ryan? Are you with me, Ryan?” She spoke, but her words seemed distant and slow, and Ryan couldn’t really understand them anyway. His head lolled, his eyes shifting around the scene around him anxiously, taking in the view from the back of the ambulance. He blinked rapidly, his focus diminishing after only a few seconds before he needed to blink again and restore it. He saw the press, pushed up against a police made barrier, snapping picture. He saw worried expressions on official looking men dressed as firefighters. He saw crying families resting on the sidewalk, staring in horror at something just out of Ryan’s line of sight.

Blinking again, Ryan pushed at the woman, pushing her out of the way and using her as an aid in standing.

“Ryan, what are you doing?” She seemed to say, but Ryan wasn’t too sure. He wasn’t sure of anything. His body felt strange and foreign as he hopped down from the back of the ambulance, almost toppling over from lack of balance on his weak legs. He regained his composure though, glancing around him in a daze before following everyone’s line of sight.

That’s when he saw it and it all hit home.

The apartment building was two storeys shorter on the left side, the roof having caved in and forced the walls out. It was as if a monster had come past and taken a bite out of it. Ryan couldn’t believe his eyes, his mind slowly coming back into function and his eyes shifting in and out of focus.

“We need a stretcher – they’ve found someone!” A man by the door to the building shouted, and there was rushing to Ryan’s left, only he couldn’t quite bring himself to turn and look. His head was swimming and the world was tilting mysteriously, as the reality of the situation smacked him in the face.

“Mikey.” He whispered, before his eyes fell shut and the only thing left to smack him in the face was the sharp rubble that littered the road he’d just collapsed on.

**

Ryan opened his eyes a moment later, only to see things were different. No longer was he outside the apartment building, watching in horror as the blaze burned out of control. No, now he was inside, where he wanted to be, surrounded by his colleagues, busy at work dousing the flames with various extinguishers. Ryan’s focus was different, however.

Cupping his hands over his mouth in a cone shape, Ryan shouted out Michael’s name. “Michael, we’re coming for you, buddy! You sit tight!” He yelled, although he had no indication of where his friend was or if he was even conscious to hear his words. Either way, it was assuring to Ryan to hear his voice clear as a bell again, glad to finally be free of the smoke that clouded his lungs and the lack of breath he experienced earlier.

None of his colleagues questioned him as he edged toward the door of the burning building, and eventually stepped inside. The fire was all around him, and yet nothing burned and Ryan was grateful. It would be easier to find the man if he was devoid of feeling. But no matter how many rooms Ryan and his team crashed through, how many fires they put out or how many voices they heard beckoning them, Michael remained missing. Ryan could feel anxiety rising inside him, mixing with just enough hysteria because _where the fuck was Michael?_

And that’s when he saw him, trapped under roof beams ablaze with crackling fire. Ryan knew there was nothing he personally could do, but he rushed toward his colleague and best friend, desperate to help. “Mikey boy, I’m here, I’m right here – we’re gonna get you out of there!” Ryan was saying, hoping to all Gods that were listening that Michael could hear him and understand what he was trying to say as he fought his way through the room. It seemed like no matter how many strides toward Michael Ryan took he wasn’t getting any closer and another wave of desperate annoyance shot through him, resulting in a garbled scream. The other fire fighters stood by his side as he made no progress toward Michael, though not from lack of trying, and it wasn’t until flames started to envelop Ryan’s surroundings that things really started to worry him.

“Why aren’t you doing anything?” Ryan screamed. “Someone, help him!”

But no one heard him, or if they did, they weren’t listening because no one moved.

The fire seeped through carpet and walls until it became a blazing ring around Michael’s unconscious form and another sound fought to come out of Ryan’s throat, but he couldn’t hear a thing. His chest tightened as the fire crept up on Michael, licking flirtatiously at his skin before taking hold of his shirt and pants and racing across his body faster than Ryan had ever seen a fire spread. Another scream caught in Ryan’s throat, stopped by a rising lump of fear, as the fire took over Michael’s body. Ryan’s chest ached with the effort of trying to scream and cry and reach out to touch Michael’s frame but being unable to do any of these things.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away as the flames burned through fabric and flesh, the smell hitting Ryan as fast as the smoke usually did. He could feel the tears pricking at his eyes but they never escaped and never threatened to. As emotional he felt inside he was just as dead on the outside. And that was the reality of it all, because no matter what he felt on the inside, a life without Michael was the equivalent of death anyway. If only he’d told his best friend that.

**

“R-Ryan? You awake buddy?”

“I think he’s waking up.”

“I don’t know man, he looks wasted. Are you sure?”

“Shhh!”

It was as if everything was being coloured from the outside in and Ryan felt as though he’d been hit by a bus. He became aware of the voices first, then his pain and then slowly, his immediate surroundings without even having to open his eyes. He could hear the incessant beeping of machines behind him and feel starchy sheets against his body. He could feel the presence of people in the room and smell their own distinctive odours.

“Dude, he looks like he’s about to barf.”

“Should we get a nurse?”

Ryan groaned, “Oh my God, would you guys shut the hell up?” His voice came out raspier and quieter than he’d intended but it had definitely done the job. The three voices in the room quickly stopped and Ryan was allowed a moments peace before slowly opening his eyes. The harsh light of the fluorescents above him shocked him and he had to close his eyes and give himself time to adjust. After a few more moments he opened his eyes again and the three men who owned the voices were situated around the foot of his bed. He managed to crack a lazy crooked smile as he met the eyes of Nathan Adrian, his second closest friend on the squad, situated between Liam, one of the rookies, and Clint, his Captain.

“Boys. Cap.” He greeted and received small and grateful smiles in return.

 “Lochte.” Captain Clint replied with a curt nod. “How you feeling?” Clint wasn’t particularly old or even particularly harsh but the too bright lights of the hospital room mixed with his serious expression and the way his frown lines seemed to have deepened with worry made Ryan feel the need to lie, if only just a little.

“Feeling pretty good, can’t complain.” Well, he could complain because right then his head decided to remind him of pain in his lungs and body and a stinging sensation along his face, but he wasn’t going to. “How ‘bout you?”

Nathan cracked a smile, laughing quietly, and somehow that managed to break whatever unspoken tension lay heavy over the room.

“We’re doing just fine,” Clint replied, a small smile threatening to make itself known against his serious expression.

“Good.”

The room fell into silence once again. Ryan noticed the way the rookie shifted his feet and avoided looking at Nathan but couldn’t quite pinpoint what made him notice it. Maybe it was the way Nathan was also starting to avoid his eyes.

“Yo, Adrian. What gives?” Ryan croaked out, pulling his friend and colleague’s attention away from his shoes on the linoleum floor.

“Nothing.” He replied too quickly, tearing his gaze from Ryan’s without another moment’s thought.

“Cap?” Ryan asked, rolling his head to the other side of the pillow to get a better view of his captain and also save his eyes some straining. “What’s going on?”

Clint frowned, exhaling slowly. “Ryan, this is important. I need you to listen to me and answer truthfully.” Ryan nodded. “What do you remember before waking up in here?”

The question seemed so trivial. So easy. So simple. So why couldn’t he answer it? It hurt Ryan’s brain to think back that far, to think back to before he heard their voices and pieced together what little of his situation he could. Come to think of it, he couldn’t really place _why_ he was in the situation he was in. His mind only went so far back as to the moment he started to wake up and everything beyond that was fuzzy and uncertain.

“I-uh,” He started, brow furrowing.

“It’s alright, buddy,” Nathan soothed, stepping closer to his bed than before and placing a heavy, reassuring hand on his shoulder. “A few deep breaths and take your time.”

Much to his surprise, this instruction helped Ryan relax. It somehow told him that it was okay that he couldn’t remember right now, but that he would soon enough. Something in the way they were all being so gentle made Ryan believe that maybe he didn’t want to remember what was coming next, but he was going to anyway. He had to. He did as he was told, exhaling and inhaling slowly through his nose. The smell in the room had changed. Whereas before it was the smell of three men whom Ryan knew well, now it was tainted with an acrid stench that set the hairs on Ryan’s arm on end. He recognised it more than the men’s individual cologne’s. The smell of smoke.

It radiated off of Nathan in their close proximity and the recognition of the new smell kicked Ryan’s brain into overdrive until images and memories and thoughts and fears were pouring through his mind freely. He couldn’t be sure what was real or what was fake but it was all so harsh against him that it made him feel physically sick. He breathed deeply again, feeling his heart rate kick up a notch and being vaguely aware of someone in the room talking to him.

“Ryan, what do you remember?” The voice pressed but he couldn’t find the will to speak, much less the words. It was all flashing so quickly across his mind’s eye – what was real and what was fiction? The voice beside him kept pressing and the beeping of the monitors behind him kept growing louder and Ryan closed his eyes to focus and drown out the noises until other voices entered the room and ushered the familiar ones out and the beeping slowed down as a feeling of warmth seemed to ooze into Ryan’s body.

“Ryan, if you can hear me, we’ve just given you something to help calm you down. You’ll be feeling a little drowsy soon, so be sure to sleep. Don’t fight it.” A female voice instructed him, but he couldn’t follow her instructions. There was no way he would allow himself to sleep when his mind was full of possibilities and horrible scenarios that he didn’t know the authenticity of. He heard her pad away in her hospital issue shoes and the sliding door of his hospital room click shut upon her retreat.

 _No_ , he wanted to call, _come back here and give me answers._ But he couldn’t. The drugs were working their way into his bloodstream and _wow_ they really were there to make him drowsy. No matter how hard Ryan tried to fight it, the lure of sleep tugged at his mind, pulling all his worries and thoughts down with him into the land of slumber.

**

The slamming of the sliding door and a hushed curse word brought Ryan from his sleep, although his mind still felt hazy and unclear. He blinked his eyes until the room came into focus, his neck stiff from the too-high pillow he’d slept on. Crossing the room in front of Ryan was Liam the Rookie, looking sad and worried and genuinely out of place in such a serious environment.

“’Sup Rookie?” Ryan asked, smirking as Liam jumped from the sudden break in silence.

“Shit, sorry Loch. I didn’t mean to wake you up- Shit, sorry. I’ll be gone in two seconds. Just gotta grab my jacket.” He motioned toward the chair beside his bed where a brown leather jacket lay draped across the arm.

“Don’t sweat it, man.” He replied casually, watching the 20-year-old collect the jacket. He’d never really had much to do with Liam other than suggesting a few cruel pranks as part of his initiation into the squad. He seemed like a good kid. The fact that he was in his hospital room considering their limited friendship intrigued Ryan, but he avoided the temptation to question him on it. Still, as the kid made a beeline for the door again, Ryan found himself wishing that Liam would stay. “Hey, you wouldn’t mind passing me a drink, would you?”

Liam turned, seemingly taken aback before composing himself and smiling. “Nah, man.” He walked back to Ryan’s bed, reaching for the jug of water that rested on the bench hanging over his sheets and filling one of the paper cups with the liquid. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“You’re not-“ Ryan started, both anxious to drink and speak at the same time. “You’re not going anywhere are you?”

“Uhhh,” Liam stammered.

“It’s cool if you are, man. I just mean that I’ve been asleep for what feels like forever and before I fell asleep I felt like you guys were about to tell me something important and it just seems like I’m not totally in the loop right now.” His words felt heavy and foreign on his tongue and he took a sip of his water to try and wash away a feeling in his throat that what he was about to ask wasn’t going to end well. “If you’re going somewhere that’s fine, I just wanted to be filled in a little, y’know?”

Liam nodded. “I get it. I just don’t really know what to tell you.” He looked uncomfortable and Ryan felt a little guilty for doing that to him, but his curiosity was getting the better of him.

“I remember a fire at some apartment building,” Ryan started and Liam looked visibly more shaken.

“I should get going-“

“And me and Phelps checking the floor first.”

“I mean, it’s getting late-“

Ryan squinted to try and recollect the next part of his memory. “But the fire was getting intense, we-“

“I don’t know what you want from me, here, man! I don’t think I can tell you anything!” Liam blurted and Ryan was caught off guard by the sudden emotion in the rookie’s voice.

“Just tell me if what I remember is right or not.” He stated bluntly and watched as colour drained from Liam’s usually pink cheeks.

The younger boy seemed to be suffering from some sort of inner moral dilemma as he decided on what, if anything, he should tell Ryan. “There was a fire at an apartment building,” Liam said quietly. “That’s true. You and Michael were the first up to the floor and did a search…”

“And…”

“I really shouldn’t be telling you this.” Liam insisted, eyes pleading for a way out as he looked at Ryan who met him with a steely gaze.

“Why not? I mean, we all got out of there okay, right? I’m fine so it’s not like anything bad happened.” Liam ducked his head, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck nervously. “Right?”

“Uhm, I really should get going now.”

“No, fuck that!” Ryan shouted, “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what the fuck is going on! What happened?”

“Nothing!”

“Then why am I in here? What aren’t you telling me?” Ryan’s voice was too loud in the small room and he could feel himself getting worked up, feel the quickened pace of his heart working against his pains. “What’s going on?”

“Get out of here, Liam.” A voice instructed from the sliding door, tearing Ryan’s focus from the newbie to Nathan.

“No, he’s not going anywhere until he tells me what’s going on.” Ryan insisted but Nathan motioned the boy out and Liam was all too willing to take the leave. “What are you guys hiding from me?” He asked, aware of how ridiculous he sounded but unable to care. “What the fuck happened?”

“Dude, calm down and I’ll tell you.”

“How am I supposed to calm down when I’m in a hospital bed for a reason I can’t remember and everyone is avoiding telling me anything?!” Ryan’s voice rose with desperation and anxiety. “Nathan, just tell me what’s going on.” He repeated for what felt like the hundredth time and Nathan sighed, pulling the sliding door shut behind him and crossing the room to occupy the seat beside his bed.

“About eight hours ago we attended a fire at some apartments,” Nathan started and Ryan gave a nod to show that he already knew that part of the story. “You and Mikey did the first scope of the scene, checking for people. You didn’t find anyone, but… Michael thought he had.”

“…Had he?”

Nathan gave a shrug, “I don’t know. I haven’t heard.” He avoided Ryan’s gaze, setting his eyes on the green knitted blanket that lay too heavy on Ryan’s limbs. “Before he could fully check it out, the roof collapsed in on him. You- you tried to help him but Cap had you pulled out of there as soon as he heard you tried to run into the burning room to save him.”

Ryan’s throat felt tight and his skin felt hot and damp and something in the way Nathan’s voice sounded was making him more anxious than before.

“I figured that would be about all you’d remember since you passed out pretty much as soon as you got back down on the ground.”

“What happened to Michael?” Ryan asked roughly, ignoring the way Nathan was trying to distract him with seemingly meaningless information.

“They found him under some beams and rubble in one of the rooms. He’s uh- he’s alive.”

Ryan let himself take pleasure in that small blessing before his body tensed up all over again. “Why do I get the feeling that that’s not good news?” He asked cautiously.

“Nah man, it is. It’s definitely good news – I mean, he could have died in there.” Ryan must have flinched because for the first time since he walked into the room, Nathan met his gaze. “But, it’s not looking good.”

“Why?”

“He’s burned pretty badly.”

Ryan nodded, feeling his stomach constrict at the news but also feeling grateful that his injuries weren’t as bad as they could have been. “Why am I still here then? I want to go see him.”

“Sure, I’ll see what I can do.” Nathan said noncommittally.

“Wait – you said it’s not looking good. How bad are these burns?”

Nathan sighed, “It’s not exactly the burns that are worrying everyone.”

Ryan felt like he was being set up, like this was all some practical joke and that he was expected to ask this next question in order for them to lay the punch-line on him and deliver some golden joke to make everyone laugh. “Well what is worrying them? What’s he saying?”

“That’s kind of the problem… He’s not saying anything.” Ryan looked to Nathan uncomprehendingly and Nathan sighed again.

“He’s in a coma, Ryan.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I can say is sorry it took so long and I hope you like it! Thanks for the support and for sticking around. Y'all are the best. :) xx

“No.” Ryan shook his head in disbelief. “No, that’s not right. That can’t be right. You’re lying to me.”

“Dude-“ Nathan started, but Ryan cut him off.

“No! He can’t be. It’s Mikey, he’s fine! He’s always been fine! He can’t- He can’t be.” Ryan met Nathan’s eyes, who frowned in response. “He can’t.” Ryan’s voice was barely a whisper. Nathan reached out a hand and grabbed Ryan’s, squeezing it tightly. Normally, such a gesture would only result in friendly teasing about being emotional messes, but neither could bring themselves to say a word. 

Silence engulfed them as the reality of the news washed over Ryan who swallowed hard every time he felt that pesky lump rising in his throat.

“I don’t know what to say, man. We didn’t want to tell you until we had good news, but…”

“But what?” Ryan pressed, Nathan sighing in response.

“It’s not really going how we’d hoped.”

Ryan let his eyes fall shut at that and his head suddenly felt heavier than it ever had before, sinking into the pillow. “He’s getting better though, right? It’s slow, but it’s happening?” He heard Nathan exhale roughly and nodded silently to himself. “How bad is it?”

“They don’t know if he’ll wake up.”

*

Ryan called a nurse as soon as Nathan left and asked to be taken to see Michael. She told him he was too weak just yet, that she’d take him in a few days.

Three days passed and Ryan was discharged from hospital. He didn’t visit Michael.

*

A week passed and Ryan was off to visit his mom to assure her that he was alive and well. He didn’t visit Michael.

*

Two weeks passed and Ryan was back to work and the crew threw a party for him. He didn’t visit Michael.

*

Three weeks passed and Ryan got a new recruit in his truck. No one said it, but they all knew he was a replacement. He didn’t visit Michael.

*

Four weeks passed and Ryan met a girl at a bar and took her home with him but couldn’t even kiss her. She left unsatisfied and he slammed his fist into his bedroom wall and cried because he couldn’t stop thinking about his best friend. He still didn’t visit Michael.

*

Five weeks passed and Ryan overheard Nathan telling Liam that the doctors didn’t hold much hope. He still didn’t visit Michael.

*

Six weeks passed and Nathan finally confronted Ryan in the locker room after one of their shifts together.

“Been to see Mikey yet?” Nathan asked as casually as possible, shrugging into his jacket.

“He’s doing the same,” Ryan replied stonily, because that’s how he always replied even though he honestly had no clue how Michael was doing aside from the call he’d gotten last week from a nurse who’d hinted that maybe a familiar voice would help bring Michael back because things weren’t going so well.

Nathan frowned at Ryan. “Actually, he’s not. Which you’d know if you went and saw him.” Ryan shrugged and Nathan slammed his locker shut, causing him to spin around and face him. “What’s with you, man?”

“What?” Ryan played ignorant, even though he knew what was coming.

“Why won’t you see him? He’s your best friend! You gotta be there for him – he needs you.”

Ryan shook his head, “You don’t know.”

“What don’t I know?” Nathan pressed and Ryan turned back to face his locker, biting the inside of his cheek. He can’t do this right now. Nathan puts a hand on his shoulder and pulls him around to face him, repeating, “What don’t I know?”

“Nothing,” Ryan pulled his shoulder from Nathan’s grasp. “He’s just better off without me, alright?” He slams his locker shut and turns to stalk out of the room, already planning to head to the nearest bar and get wasted. Again.

“That’s a fucking piss-weak excuse, Ryan, and you know it.”

Ryan spun around on his heel. “What’d you say?”

“You’re just afraid to go back there – too afraid that if you go there and see him again in case something bad happens. Well guess what, if you _don’t_ go and something bad happens, that’ll be worse. If you miss his last moments, that’ll be unforgiveable.” Nathan continued, sounding disgusted.

Ryan laughed, a dark and withdrawn sound. “You don’t know shit about me, alright? I’m not fucking scared. I’m staying away because I have to, because Michael doesn’t want me there and I’ve got no right to be there. If it wasn’t for me, he wouldn’t even be in that fucking mess so don’t stand there and try and make me feel lousy for not visiting him because nothing you can say can make me feel worse than I already do.”

“What?” Nathan exclaimed, sounding genuinely confused. “What the hell, Ryan? How is any of this your fault? You didn’t start that fire!”

“No, but I did say I heard someone up there when I didn’t. I made it up and now he’s in a fucking coma and nothing I can do now is going to change that.” Ryan replied, voice cold and steady and he stared Nathan down as he tried to find words to say. He took the following silence as an indication to leave so he did, but it wasn’t long before Nathan was chasing down the hall after him.

“You’re a coward!” He shouted and Ryan stopped in his tracks, turning again. He expected Nathan to stay at the end of the hall but he’s stalking up toward him, not stopping until he’s inches from his face. “You get your best friend into a burning building based on a _lie_ and then when shit goes south, you don’t even stick around?” Nathan shook his head, visibly mad and Ryan couldn’t stop thinking, hoping, wishing that he’d curl his fingers into a fist and slam it into his face, but it never came. “You got him into that fucking mess, the least you could do is go visit him and try and fix some of the damage you’ve done.”

Nathan stormed off after that and Ryan stayed where he was in the hall, staring blankly at the air where Nathan had just been before continuing on his venture to the closest bar.

*

What Nathan said weighed heavy on Ryan’s mind all night as he downed glass after glass of any alcoholic beverage the bartender put in front of him. And maybe he was being a coward, maybe he was scared, but he knew he was right in thinking that he had no right to be there. It was all his fault.

But a part of Ryan yearned to know how Michael was doing – longed to know if he was doing okay or if he was getting better or worse. He wanted to see him again. He missed him. Those thoughts sent Ryan ordering shots with each round of drinks, drowning his sorrows in a haze of tequila, beer and even some Sambuca.

Michael had been the only thing on Ryan’s mind all night and maybe that was what prompted him to stumble through the hospital doors late (or early, depending on how you looked at it) that night, a little more intoxicated than he thought.

“Sir, you can’t be here. Visiting hours ended at 8 pm.” The nurse told him when he asked which room Michael was in.

“No, I need to see him.” Ryan insisted, leaning over the counter top of the nurses station. “He needs to know I haven’t left him.”

The nurse scrunched up her nose, having caught a whiff of Ryan’s alcohol tainted breath. “You can’t see him. It’s late.”

“Please,” Ryan breathed and the nurse pursed her lips.

“You’re drunk. I can’t let you in there.”

Ryan frowned. “It’s my fault he’s in there. You’re probably doing him a favour by not letting me see him. He probably hates me.”

“I’m sure that’s not true, sir.” The nurse said, looking down at her papers and shuffling a few of them, probably in an effort to demonstrate how busy she was and how little time she had to be wasting on a drunken fool. Ryan didn’t move and the woman sighed behind the desk, grabbing a pen and writing on some of the papers. She seemed to zone out and focus on her work and Ryan watched her. After a few moments she glanced up, meeting his eyes with her own knowing ones. “Look, I’m sure that he knows you care for him. Whatever it is you think you did to put him in that position, it’s not going to matter.”

“It _does_. It matters because what I did almost killed him.” Ryan’s voice was sad and quiet and pitiful and perhaps it was enough to break whatever steely resolve the nurse had, or maybe she was just sick of him watching her, because she stood up and clipped her pager onto the waistband of her nurses scrubs.

“I can’t let you in there, but I’ll show you where he is and you can see that he’s okay. You have to promise that you won’t try and go inside, though. Do we have a deal?”

Ryan nodded enthusiastically. “I just need to see him.”

“This way,” She said with a sigh, wrapping a lanyard with a pen and some keys around her neck and leading the way down a hall. Ryan followed sluggishly behind her, his feet dead weights but still complying with his brain’s insistent mantra of _move_. She stopped outside a door and looked to him, rolling her eyes when she noticed he was still a little while down the corridor. Ryan willed himself to move faster and he did, making it to the waiting nurse before she got too annoyed waiting.

The door had a glass panel for Ryan to see through, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. Yet. He looked at the nurse and she looked back, her stern expression fading into something a little softer. “It’s okay, he’s the same as before. He’s not any worse.” She assured him but it only made Ryan feel worse.

“I don’t know how he was before,” He admitted, looking down at his shoes. “I haven’t… It’s my first… I, uh.” He stammered, looking for the words and feeling incredibly exposed in front of this stranger. He felt incredibly shit, at that moment. Like the worst man alive. “I just couldn’t do it, y’know?” He asked, looking to the nurse because for some reason he felt like he needed her understanding. This woman, this nurse, this magical person, looked after Michael when Ryan wasn’t strong enough to do so. She was there when Ryan wasn’t and that meant something to Ryan. It meant a lot.

She nodded. “It’s okay. A lot of people have trouble coming to terms with long term things such as this. It’s normal.” Her voice wasn’t particularly soothing and Ryan wished she’d said something helpful. He needed her to understand, to pat him on the back and say that she forgave him and that all that mattered was that he was here now. That Michael was going to be okay.

“I’m scared.” Ryan mumbled, unsure of where the words had come from and he searched the nurse’s face for a sign that she knew. He wanted her to know. He wanted her to be able to help him.

Instead, her lips turned down in the corners in a small frown and she glanced at her wrist watch. “Look, I’ve got a break in about five minutes. How about we get some coffee and we can talk this through and then we’ll see if you’re ready to see him then – how’s that sound?”

Ryan nodded, the action causing him to feel a little dizzy, but he was grateful. “He’s okay though, right? Like, he’s doing alright?” He asked.

The nurse glanced at the glass panel of the door and nodded. “Just looks like he’s sleeping,” She said and Ryan exhaled heavily. It was as if a weight had lifted.

*

In the hospital cafeteria, Ryan held his head in his hands, elbows resting on the plastic table top as the nurse slid a cup of coffee toward him.

“He means a lot to you, huh?” She started, taking a sip. “Michael?”

Ryan nodded. “He’s… I work with him. He’s my best friend, y’know?”

“Sure,” She said, pushing his cup closer to him. “Drink that. It’ll clear your head.” Ryan did as he was told, watching the nurse as she ate a sandwich. He felt a little bad for intruding on her work break, but couldn’t quite bring himself to apologise and leave. He wanted her company.

“It’s my fault.” He breached the silence, staring down at the table and eyeing the geometric patterns covering it. She didn’t question him, but he continued anyway. He told her about the fire and what happened and why he hadn’t visited and he even managed to tell her a few of his favourite stories of Michael after she’d gotten them another cup of coffee each. She nodded the whole time, not saying anything, not judging, not questioning. Just listening. Ryan hoped she understood.

Finally, despite the coffee, Ryan found himself yawning.

“You should probably get some rest,” She told him and Ryan nodded. “Come back tomorrow and you’ll be able to go in and talk to him. Maybe tell him some of what you just said to me.”

Ryan felt hopeful. “Can he hear me? Hear me, despite the-“ He still couldn’t say the word.

“Despite the coma?” Ryan nodded and she shrugged. “People think so.”

“Do you?”

“I guess so.” She stood from the table and threw her trash in the nearby garbage bin. Ryan followed suit and she lead him down to the hospital’s main entrance, hailing him a cab from the nearby rank. “It’s not your fault.” She told him before turning and walking back into the hospital and for some reason, Ryan found himself believing her.

*

Ryan didn’t get to the hospital again until well after 2pm. He was sure that the nurse from the night before wouldn’t be there anymore, but as he approached the nurses station (having forgotten the way to Michael’s room already and not taken notice of the number) he spotted her.

“Didn’t think you’d come back.” She said from behind the counter.

“Almost didn’t.”

“It’s a good thing you did.” She stated and again he felt himself believing her. “Want me to take you to him?”

Ryan nodded as his throat dried and made talking near impossible. She stood from her chair and lead the way and even though he was drunk the night before, Ryan had the distinct feeling of déjà vu. This time, when she stopped and looked expectantly at Ryan, the door to the room was open. He swallowed roughly, closing his eyes momentarily in an effort to gather his thoughts.

He wanted her to come with him. He felt strangely comforted by her even though she was harsh and impersonal. He wanted her by his side when he saw Michael. He looked to her and she shook her head, as if she could read his thoughts, and walked back in the direction they’d come. Ryan steeled himself and stepped into the room, turning and shutting the door before he could back out.

With the door shut, Ryan took tentative steps into the room. He focused on the window on the opposite wall, peripheral vision taking in the bed in the centre of the room and the machines beeping around it. He could see Michael but couldn’t _see_ him. Not yet. He kept walking, only stopping when his hand touched the plastic bed end where the patient file sat in a little tray.

He gripped it tight in his hands, closing his eyes as he lifted his head and turned in the direction of the bed. The beeps were soft in the quiet room and the only noise was their combined breathing, Michael’s a little louder than Ryan’s thanks to the help of a pumping machine.

Ryan tensed his jaw and opened his eyes, taking a few moments to adjust to the bright lights overhead. He wasn’t exactly sure when his sight was restored because what appeared in front of him surely was too sick and twisted to be real.

It took Ryan a few minutes to accept that the body lying deathly still between those crisp hospital sheets was actually his friend – actually Michael. There were long harsh red marks along his arms and across his torso, one that snuck along his arm and under a cast, which Ryan could only assume was mending a broken bone, and one particularly angry one stretching from his uncovered stomach right up to his neck. They were bumpy and bloody and covered in stained gauze. Bruises of all colours formed twisted outlines for the burns, as if Michael’s body were suddenly a canvas on which an artist had decided to portray an inaccurate but aesthetically pleasing depiction of a burns victim, and it made Ryan irrationally angry. He should be grateful that Michael wasn’t as disfigured by the flames or the crushing roof as other victims he’d seen, but he couldn’t bring himself to think so selflessly because it was his fucking fault that Michael had any of those markings on his skin in the first place.

Ryan shut his eyes, taking deep breaths and calming himself before opening them and looking at Michael’s face. It was so deceptively fresh and clean, almost as if he were just sleeping there. Almost as if he were okay. Ryan had to stop himself from leaning forward and shaking his friend awake, telling him to stop being stupid just because he looked _fine_. He looked so normal. But a few more seconds looking revealed what the first glance didn’t - a split lip and some crusted blood at the side of his head, stitches across his forehead and a patch of gauze that was tinged red in the middle over a patch of his now-shaven head. The most interesting thing to Ryan was Michael’s mouth, those lips which were so often curled up into a smile or parted widely in laughter were now grim and straight and serious.

It wasn’t as though Ryan didn’t believe it when Nathan told him that Michael was in a coma or when the nurse warned him that it wasn’t going to be an easy sight, he knew they weren’t lying to him, but somehow it all became so much more real when Ryan saw what a mess his best friend was. He was dying. Michael, the best dude he’d ever known and his best friend was _dying_ and it was all his fault.

He sniffled, feeling the dampness on his cheeks and the sting in his eyes and as much as he didn’t want to cry, he couldn’t manage to quell it. “Fuck,” He murmured and Ryan never knew the word to be so heavy. Maybe he hadn’t ever used it in the right context before. It seemed right now. It was a harsh word and managed to speak millions of others in just one syllable.

His hands tightened around the bed end and he leaned into it, resting his weight against it just for a moment until the tray holding Michael’s medical file was too uncomfortable against his body. He plucked the file from its holder, opening it up and reading it over without much thought. Most of it went over his head but a few important things stuck out – collapsed lung, internal bleeding, possible concussion, broken arm, second and third degree burns.

Ryan swallowed thickly again, dropping the file back in place and looking at Michael once more. It felt weird just standing there, not saying anything. He was pretty sure that he’d never been this silent whilst in the same room as Michael ever. The thought made a chuckle bubble from his lips but it sounded foreign. “They, uh, told me I should talk to you,” He tried, instantly feeling stupid, “but I’m not really sure what to say.”

He shook his head, looking down at his hands, littered with scars from years of work. “You probably don’t even want me here, let alone want to hear me talk.” Silence. “Part of me thought you’d say something there about how I should be grateful for the gap in conversation.” He joked, looking up and genuinely expecting to see Michael laughing at him. He wasn’t. He was lying just the same as before. Ryan frowned. It seemed like he’d been doing a lot of that lately.

“You have no idea how badly I want for you to wake up,” Ryan admitted, voice cracked. “The thought of you-“ He gulped down a desperate breath. “The thought of you dying because of some stupid fucking thing I did is killing me. You know that, right? You gotta know how much it’s eating me up inside knowing that something I did put you in this position.” He looked at Michael and the injuries all over him and it hit him like a tonne of bricks and suddenly it was all too hard to breathe.

“I’m sorry, Mikey. I’m so fucking sorry.” Ryan’s voice was thick and sad and he reached out to touch where Michael’s foot rested beneath the sheets. “I’ll make it up to you though, I promise. All you gotta do is wake up for me. Wake up and tell me to fuck off or rip me a new one for lying or even call me an asshole and ask me how the Ravens are doing, just…”

Ryan tensed his jaw again, pulling his hand back. “Just wake up for me, okay man?”

He waited and watched and tried not to feel too disappointed when nothing changed. It was stupid and immature to think that just asking him to wake up would be enough, but he couldn’t deny that he’d hoped it was.

Ryan composed himself and wiped the tears from his face before leaving the room, giving a grateful nod to the nurse from the night before on his way to the elevators. He returned an hour later with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder and the newspaper tucked under his arm. He was going to be there for Michael, whether he liked it or not.

*

Ryan spent every moment possible with Michael. He called in sick as often as he could (until the Captain told him he’d be fired if he missed another shift), stayed past visiting hours, bribed the nurses with pastries to let him in to see Michael a little earlier than was normal in the mornings. At night he often fell asleep by Michael’s bed side and if Hannah caught him, the nurse from the first night, she usually let him stay. Other nurses weren’t quite so accommodating.

During the days, Ryan would read out the sports scores or tell Michael about dumb stuff that had happened at the station. He’d fill him in on what his favourite bands were doing or what movies were coming out that he thought the other man would like and it was almost like talking to him normally – except for the distinct lack in conversation on Michael’s part. Somehow Ryan had gone from not knowing what to say in the quiet room so full of words unsaid, to not knowing where to begin with the stories he had to share. He knew that Michael probably wasn’t hearing a word of it, but he hoped that maybe it was helping anyway. If anything, it was most likely helping Ryan more than Michael.

“Bro, you’d never guess what happened last night.” He started one morning, bursting into Michael’s hospital room with a grin on his face. He took the seat by the window and dragged it closer to Michael’s bed. “I’m only gonna tell you if you wake up though, so get on with it.”

He waited a few moments, the way he always did, watching for any signs of improvement. Like always, there was nothing.

“Alright fine, I’ll tell you anyway.” He paused for dramatic effect even though there was no one else in the room and watched Michael’s face as he revealed, “Ravens are in the Super Bowl.”

Ryan could almost hear the whoop that Michael would have let out at that news, if only he actually heard it. He could imagine the grin on his face and the gloating he’d do and the excitement that would light up his face. The smile that would grace his lips.

He noticed the slight upward turn of Michael’s lips and wondered when that happened. Maybe Hannah had positioned him like that during one of the sponge baths she gave him.

“Hey Ryan,” She greeted, walking through the door with a wheeled tray covered with scissors, bandages and fresh gauze. Ryan was more than a little freaked out that she just managed to pop up when he was thinking about her, wondered if maybe she was like a genie that was summoned by thought. He shook his head, clearing his mind of the stupidity.

“That’s right,” He continued, nodding his head at the nurse and sliding back in his seat, propping his feet up on Michael’s bed as if they were at Michael’s apartment and Ryan was being difficult. “It’s a Ravens-49ers final and it’s gonna be a doozy.”

Hannah laughed quietly, having warmed to Ryan over the past four weeks he’d been visiting. “Keeping him updated on the important things, I see.” She said, reaching across Michael’s unmoving body to smack Ryan’s feet off the sheets. “I’m sure he’d be just thrilled to learn who’s going to the Super Bowl.”

“He would be,” Ryan said, leaning back in his chair. “He loves football.”

She nodded knowingly and turned her attention to the tray of bandages. She unwrapped a few before pulling on some latex gloves and moving toward Michael’s head, pulling up the corner of the gauze that covered the healing scar on top of his head, the hair growing back nicely around it.

“How’s it look?” He asked.

“It’s good,” She confirmed, “Might not need gauze anymore. It’s healing properly.”

Ryan smiled and watched as she checked on the other bandages covering some of the worse burns on Michael’s torso. She frowned at one and turned back to the tray, grabbing a fresh bandage and some cream and looking back at Michael. She replaced the bandage and Ryan managed a glimpse of the soiled one, still red and damp despite how long it had been, and he frowned.

“Anyway,” He started again, needing the distraction, “The boys are headed to the ‘Bowl and the odds are looking pretty good so you better wake your lazy ass up because I _know_ there’s no way you’re missing that game.”

Hannah laughed at him, shaking her head fondly and Ryan even managed a short chuckle himself until one of the machines beeped a little faster than usual. And then another. And then another. Ryan sat up straight in his seat, no longer slouching, and stared at Hannah with wide eyes. She quickly leaned over the head of Michael’s bed and pressed the intercom button.

“Get me Dr Chase,” She ordered just as a choking sound filled the room.

“What is that? What the fuck is going on?” Ryan asked, looking from Hannah to Michael as it registered that he was the one making the noises. “What does this mean?”

“I don’t know,” Hannah said, sounding rushed and worried and she glanced up at Ryan from where she was flattening Michael’s bed back down. “Maybe you should leave.”

“No, fuck that! I’m not going anywhere!” He said adamantly, shaking his head to emphasise his point.

A doctor rushed into the room, flanked by some nurses. “What have we got?”

Hannah relayed some medical terms that Ryan was starting to understand but still a little iffy on their meanings and watched as the doctor and his nurses started poking and prodding at Michael’s body in what Ryan hoped was a medically beneficial way. The gurgling noises continued again and the doctor frowned, reaching up to unclip the tube that was down Michael’s throat.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He roared, “He needs that to breathe! You can’t take that out!”

But the doctor kept going, pulling the tube clear out of Michael’s throat and Ryan was at a loss for what to do because well, what the fuck could he do? He watched in horror as Michael continued to choke and then suddenly, he opened his eyes.

He opened his eyes.

Hannah met Ryan’s gaze over the team of medical staff in the room, looking as shocked and surprised as he felt, as the others repeated Michael’s name and continued to poke and prod him and do more tests. A nurse was waving a torch past Michael’s eyes as another attached an oxygen mask over his mouth and the doctor consulted the monitor of a nearby machine.

“Is he awake?” Ryan asked because no one had said anything other than ‘Michael? Are you with us Michael? You’re in the hospital. Blink twice if you can understand what we’re saying, Michael. Are you with us?’ for the past ten minutes.

Michael’s eyes blinked a few times, rolling and shifting and unable to focus on anything and Ryan took a step closer to the bed, swallowing thickly.

“Mikey? You awake, man?” He asked, ignoring the way his voice shook. Nearby, Hannah put a hand on his shoulder.

“It seems like he’s waking up, but we can’t be sure.” The doctor said, looking up from where he was jotting something down in Michael’s file and Ryan frowns at him. By now, the doctor knew better than to sugar coat things so he came right out with it. “This is a good sign – he’s responsive but due to the amount of head injuries sustained, we can’t be sure if Michael’s just slow waking up or if this is something else.”

“Like what?” Ryan demanded.

“Worst case scenario, brain damage. The chances are slim, but still enough to be a real possibility. If it is brain damage, we won’t know which or to what extent until Michael’s been awake for at least a few hours.”

Ryan nodded, tensing his jaw again to stop from cursing the doctor. It wasn’t his fault. The other nurses filed from the room and the doctor turned his attention back to the file, scribbling quickly. Hannah kept her hand on Ryan’s shoulder until he moved away from her and stepped closer to Michael.

“Mikey, can you hear me bro?” He asked quietly, putting his hand on the bed beside where Michael’s arm was resting. Michael’s eyes had been darting around the room since opening and Ryan watched them closely until they slowed and finally settled, staring into his own. Taking it as a sign, Ryan checked to see if Hannah or the doctor were watching, which they weren’t, before reaching up and pulling the oxygen mask away from Michael’s mouth. Ryan watched as Michael’s Adams apple bobbed slowly and it all felt so surreal, so strange and impossible but so great too.  “Say something,” He urged in a whisper. “Say anything.”

If he’d blinked, he’d have missed it, and maybe it was all in his head, but he swore he saw Michael’s lips twitch.

“Come on,” He encouraged quietly, “Speak to me, man.”

“Ryan, leave him alone,” Hannah said, drawing his attention away momentarily. “He needs rest.”

Ryan shook his head, about to argue when someone else did it for him.

“Ravens are in the Super Bowl?” A raspy voice asked and Ryan almost choked on a sob when he looked back and saw Michael smiling up at him lazily, looking exhausted but awake. He was awake.

*


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, hasn't this been a long time in the making! I know I promised a 5 chapter fic but I got inspired recently and it all just sort of came out in one big long chapter and now it's finally over! It's so bizarre to think that it's finally finished, my first finished chaptered fic, but I'm glad that it is.
> 
> Dedicated to Sam, Susan, greatestheroine, intrepidy, littlemissprym and any other readers who stuck with me this whole time and commented for me to keep going. If it weren't for you, I probably would have given up on this a long time ago. Your support, kind words and feels are what kept me loyal to this and I hope I've given you the type of ending you were looking for. I hope that this is a good ending to a fic that I hope you all enjoyed. Mostly, I hope you don't regret waiting for this finale. I just really hope you like it. 
> 
> It's unbeta'd but I did read it back quickly to make sure it made sense, I just wanted to get it out to you guys as soon as possible! Anyway, as always, let me know what you think! I've got twitter now so hit me up there if you want @thorpuckerman
> 
> PLEASE ENJOY! x

“Jesus,” Ryan breathed, astonished. He stood staring at his best friend lying in the bed, the one who only moments before had been comatose but now lay there, looking expectantly at him. He let out a noise, half-sob and half-chuckle before he was gently pushed to the side as Hannah and the doctor edged forward and checked him over, asking him more questions than when he’d initially woken and checking the various monitors surrounding the bed head. Ryan brought his thumb to his lips, nervously chewing on his nail as Michael took longer than usual to process and answer each of the relatively easy questions.

“Do you remember what happened, Michael? What led to you being here?” The doctor asked softly and Ryan stopped chewing to listen to Michael’s answer.

There wasn’t much of an answer though, as Michael’s breathing grew raspier until he was gasping for air and Hannah was returning the oxygen mask to its previous position. Ryan wanted to move closer to the bed, but Hannah gave him a stern look that he assumed meant he shouldn’t, so he watched on in desperation. She patted Michael reassuringly until he moved the mask aside again and licked his lips slowly.

“I remember… work.” He started, his voice gravelly. “A fire. Apartments.”

The doctor nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Good, that’s a good start, Michael. Is there anything else you remember? Perhaps something you think you should but don’t?” Michael watched the doctor closely before giving the tiniest of nods. “There is something?” Michael nodded again. “What is it? Take your time.”

Ryan took a tiny step forward in anticipation while the doctor watched Michael closely. Hannah was adjusting one of the drips connected to Michael’s forearm but gave Ryan a tiny smile when their glances met.

“I know who I am, and I am pretty sure that you two work for the hospital…” Michael spoke, swallowing roughly, a movement which Ryan echoed because if Michael was about to say what he thought, there was no way he’d be able to stop himself from crying. “But I don’t know who he is.”

Michael shifted his head on the pillow, turning his attention from the doctor to Ryan. The doctor looked at Ryan expectantly but all he could do was look to Hannah for help. Her face said it all. Her eyes were shiny and her mouth open as if she’d said ‘oh no’ and no one had heard it. The silence in the room dragged on as Ryan shifted his gaze from Hannah to the doctor and to Michael, trying to find some indication of how he should handle this. How the fuck was he supposed to handle this? His best friend didn’t even know who he was!

Ryan swallowed thickly, opening his mouth to provide some kind of answer for Michael when he saw a tiny, lazy grin spread across his lips.

“You fuck!” Ryan exclaimed, a small smile of his own making itself known.

“Ryan!” The doctor exclaimed, shocked, and he opened his mouth to scold Ryan more but was interrupted but a noise so beautiful that Ryan felt his throat tighten. Michael laughed. He laughed a pathetic tired chuckle, but it was a laugh nonetheless and the doctor caught on to the situation and chuckled quietly too.

“You fucker,” Ryan repeated, shaking his head and stepping toward the bed.

“I got you good,” Michael said monotonously, but there was a smile on his face. “I had you worried.”

Ryan nodded, “You had me real worried, man!”

“Just a moment,” The doctor interrupted, “I need to be certain that you do actually know who this man is.”

Michael licked his lips (slowly, everything was so slow it was painful) and readied himself to speak and Ryan found himself holding his breath just in case his best friend was just trying to act like he was okay. But then Michael’s smile broke through again and he said, “That’s Ryan, my jerk of a best friend.”

Ryan laughed, he couldn’t help himself, and beside Michael’s head Hannah did the same. Hers was a quieter laugh, more grateful than anything even though she had nothing to be grateful for. She didn’t know them. She didn’t know Michael and yet she was just as happy as Ryan was that he was awake. That said something about her as a person.

The doctor scribbled on Michael’s file again before replacing it at the foot of his bed. “This is good, Michael. Good news.”

Michael frowned for the first time since waking and it looked wrong. Ryan wanted to wipe it off his face. “Did you expect bad news?”

The doctor laughed, “No, son, not at all; but this is definitely better than we’d anticipated.”

“Awesome,” Ryan answered, “So when can he leave?”

“Now’s not the time for that, Ryan. Michael needs to rest.” The doctor replied and Michael groaned, causing all sets of eyes to fly to him immediately. “Is something wrong?”

“You mean other than having to sleep some more after just waking up from- how long was I asleep for?” Michael directed the final part of the question to Ryan and he doesn’t know how to respond.

“Like I said, now’s not the time, Michael. You need your rest; the nurse will give you something to help you sleep.” The doctor directed, giving a curt nod before leaving the room.

Ryan watched Michael as he rolled his eyes and looked toward Hannah. “You’re not really going to give me that, are you? I just woke up.”

Hannah laughed, “Sorry, but I have to.” As she said it, she injected something into the spare tube of Michael’s drip. “Have a good rest and we’ll speak in the morning.”

“Ryan-“ Michael started and Hannah cut him off.

“He’ll be here.” She said sternly turning her back on him and walking towards Ryan. “Just like he is _every_ morning.” She added quietly. Ryan smiled shyly and she beamed up at him. “I’m so happy for you, Ryan.”

“Me too.”

She nudged him with her arm jokingly, before leading the way out of the room and flipping off the light switch, leaving Michael to sleep.

*

When Ryan arrived at the hospital the next day, the doctor, (Dr Kane, he’d since learned) intercepted him before he could make it to Michael’s room.

“Mr Lochte, I just wanted to have a conversation with you about Michael. Do you have time?” He asked him, motioning to a secluded couch in the waiting room. Ryan nodded and they sat down beside one another, Dr Kane turning toward him slightly.

“Is everything okay?” Ryan asked nervously, but Dr Kane was quick to assure him.

“Everything is fine, Ryan, or at least as fine as we could expect. Even a little better, truth be told.”

Ryan cocked his head to the side. “Really? So what’s with the conversation?”

Dr Kane cleared his throat and fiddled with his wristwatch for a moment. “What concerns me is how fine Michael is. He’s retained most of his memory, which is an excellent sign, but also calls for caution. He doesn’t remember the situation that led to him being brought in here and I fear that perhaps telling him it all at once might do more harm than good. The brain is a fragile thing, I’m sure you understand, and it’s important that we let Michael recover fully before putting any unnecessary strain on him.”

Ryan frowned, “So you’re saying we should lie to him?”

“Not at all,” Dr Kane answered vehemently, “All I’m suggesting is that perhaps we rely on half-truths. Don’t tell him how long he’s been in here or the severity of his injuries, et cetera.”

“Wouldn’t he already be aware of his injuries? It is his body.”

“Perhaps. I just think it’s best to limit the stress we put on Michael, but I have no sway over what you can or cannot say to him. It’s merely a suggestion.” Dr Kane finished, rising from the seat. “Nurse Hannah said she was waking him to check his vitals earlier, so he should still be awake if you want to see him now.”

Ryan nodded, rising from the seat as well. “Thanks Doc.” He made his way to Michael’s room, thinking over what Dr Kane had just said as he went. It wasn’t really fair to keep the reality of the situation from Michael, but like the doctor had said, it could cause more harm than good.

But as he walked into the room and saw Michael looking up at Hannah, smiling and laughing after seemingly having just told a joke, he knew he couldn’t lie. He couldn’t let Michael think that he was okay when he was far from it. He couldn’t let him think that he was this awesome friend when it was his stupid fault he was there in the first place.

Michael glanced up as soon as he heard Ryan enter the room and his face light up. “Ryan!”

“Mikey.” Ryan greeted with a smile, heading straight for the chair he occupied every other morning for what felt like forever. “You’re looking better this morning, man.”

“Really? I feel like crap.” He said, but his smile said otherwise. It was incredible how much a night of proper sleep had helped Michael. It wasn’t a miraculous change or anything, there were still scars on his face, although less bandages, and still cuts on his body. He was still injured. He was just a little better now.

 “I’ve been trying to tell him that that’s expected given what he’s been through, but he’s been less than accepting of that.” Hannah interjected with what could only be affection in her voice. It’s typical that Michael has her wrapped around his little finger already, it’s just Michael’s natural charm, and it brought a smile to Ryan’s lips.

“Well maybe if you told me what exactly it was that I’d been through I’d be more accepting.” Michael suggested, glancing up at Hannah who laughed gently, before setting his eyes on Ryan. “How about you, dude? You gonna tell me what’s going on?”

He wanted to. He was going to. He couldn’t. “No.”

Michael frowned. “Why?”

“It’s just too early in the morning for that. I’ll tell you later.” Ryan promised and Michael looked doubtful but nodded anyway.

“You better.”

“He will,” Hannah cut in, “Otherwise he’ll have me to answer to.” She finished up cutting the stitches from one of Michael’s better healing head wounds, gathering her utensils and replacing them on the tray before walking it out of the room.

Michael rolled his head on the pillow toward Ryan and smirked. “So you and her, huh?”

“What?”

“You sly dog, you hooked up while I was in hospital didn’t you!” Michael joked.

“What? No way, man!” Ryan replied, just as light-hearted as Michael had been, although part of him was slightly offended in a confusing sort of way.

“Are you kidding me? Why not? She’s cute. And your type.”

Ryan rolled his eyes playfully, “Sorry that I was more focused on my sick friend than some nurse.”

Michael laughed out loud at that, “Who knew you were such a good friend, huh?”

And just like that, it wasn’t funny anymore and it wasn’t fair. “I’m really not, Michael.”

Michael’s brow furrowed. “Really not, what?”

“A good friend,” Ryan clarified.

“Come on, man, Hannah already told me that you were here every day I’ve been here.” Michael said with a wave of the hand, “You don’t have to pretend like you weren’t here for me.”

Ryan scoffed, “I wasn’t… I was here for me.” He saw the way Michael looked confused and he couldn’t handle looking at that and being honest, so he leaned forward in his seat and stared down at his hands. “I was here every day because I felt guilty.”

“Guilty for what?” Michael asked eventually, after a lot of silence.

He exhaled slowly, twisting a ring around his right middle finger. “It’s my fault you’re in here, Mikey. I- I can’t tell you anything else… Doctor’s orders.”

“Screw doctor’s orders, what the hell is going on, dude?” Michael looked angrier than Ryan could recall ever seeing him.

Ryan sighed before continuing quietly. “We were on a job and the floor we were supposed to clear was too dangerous for us to really go investigate until we had back up but I couldn’t wait. So I told you I heard someone inside so we could go check it out… I lied. I didn’t hear anyone. I lied and it got you in fucking hospital.”

“I don’t get it…” Michael said, “I don’t understand. How is this your fault?”

Ryan looked up and met his gaze. “It’s my fault because there was no one up there! You went in there because I made up some story about hearing someone and you suffered for it. The roof collapsed and crushed you and _burned_ you and it was my fault and there wasn’t anything I could do to help you and I was so worried, okay? I was fucking scared. And then they found you and I thought everything was going to be alright, but it wasn’t.”

“No, Ryan, what are you talking about, everything’s fine! Look at me, I’m _fine_.” Michael said, voice reassuring and also a little desperate and that hurt Ryan even more.

“You’re not fine!” Ryan shouted. “You’ve been in a coma for two months, dude! You’ve got burns and scars that you’re just too drugged out of your mind to feel yet, but trust me, you’ll feel them soon enough. You’re going to be in so much pain, man, and it’s all my fault because I fucking couldn’t wait for back up.”

Michael frowned, “It’s not your fault, you were just doing your job.”

Ryan shook his head, standing from the chair. “Stop doing that! Stop making excuses for me. I’m a fucking shitty friend who almost _killed_ you. Stop being nice to me! You almost _died_ and you’re just gonna sit there and say that it wasn’t my fault? No. I won’t let you.”

“What? Ryan, calm down! Let’s talk about it!” Michael begged as Ryan stormed out of the room.

*

After calling in sick to work for a week, Ryan eventually had to return. He didn’t want to. He knew what would be waiting for him. No doubt the whole team knew Michael was better, probably heard that Ryan bailed on him too, and they’d all have an opinion about it. Liam would smile at Ryan and tell him he understood, but deep down he’d be just as furious as Nathan. Only difference being that Nathan would confront Ryan and tell him what a selfish jerk he was.

Ryan just couldn’t help it. Ever since he was little he’d avoided things that would hurt him and right now Michael was one of those things. The truth was that even avoiding it hurt, maybe more than staying would have, but Ryan deserved the pain. He deserved Michael’s pain.

That first shift back was hell. They were ruthless, each of the men in his team asking him why he wasn’t with Michael or how he was going or if he planned on visiting later. It was like half of them weren’t aware of the fact that he’d abandoned him, or if they were, were using it to torture him in a way they had no idea would hurt him so bad. Nathan didn’t speak to him and Liam didn’t smile at him and mostly it was tense and painful. But Ryan was used to it. Pain was his default setting now, just as it was Michael’s.

Minutes, hours, days, weeks passed in a blur because Ryan was living on auto pilot. He tuned out everything other than the work he knew and the beer he drank. It was getting to the point where he couldn’t know what day it was without checking his phone and it was a miracle he was even getting out of bed some mornings. But every time he thought about staying in bed and not going to work, he thought about the possibility that his absence could put another innocent person in hospital the same way he’d put Michael in there, and that was enough to make him push the sheets aside.

He thought he was getting himself together, slowly but surely, and that sat alright with him.

Until one night he got a knock on his apartment door and he opened it without checking, expecting it to be the pizza he’d ordered but seeing Michael there instead. And well, if that didn’t fuck him over completely.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, maybe a little rudely.

Michael looked serious. “I got discharged from the hospital today… Went to go home but realised that no one had paid my rent for me. So.” He looked down and kicked gently at the duffle bag on the floor by his feet.

Ryan frowned. “You shouldn’t…”

“Don’t.” Michael said harshly, forcing Ryan to meet his gaze. “Don’t give me that bullshit. Just take my bag and let me in.”

Ryan did as he was told, shutting the door behind Michael because how was he supposed to say no to a guy whose life he’d basically ruined? “I’ll um… I’ll put this in my room, I guess. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Michael just nodded, taking his time walking through to his living room couch as if everything took just a little too much effort at the moment. The thought made Ryan frown again.

When Ryan returned from his room after cleaning it somewhat, he saw Michael twirling an empty bottle of beer slowly on the coffee table. “Sorry about the mess,” He apologised lamely.

“When have you ever cared about mess?” Michael countered, looking up at him with a lazy smile, and damn if that wasn’t the truth.

He wanted to say something. He wanted to say sorry for something a little more important than a messy house. He wanted to say sorry for everything, for leaving, for never calling, for acting like he didn’t care, for putting him in danger in the first place. He wanted Michael to understand but he couldn’t quite bring himself to open his mouth and let the words come out. He sat down on the couch opposite him instead.

“You don’t have to, y’know,” Michael said quietly. “Feel bad or sorry or anything.”

“I do.” Ryan replied just as quietly and Michael glanced up at him again.

He gave the tiniest shake of his head. “You don’t. Nathan told me what happened and yeah, it was stupid, but I don’t blame you. I could have said no. I didn’t have to follow you in.”

“You thought someone was in there, you wouldn’t have let me go by myself.”

“True, I wouldn’t have let you go in alone. But I know when you’re lying, dude, and I’m pretty sure if you were lying then, I would have been able to tell. I went in there because I wanted to, not because of some bullshit you told me.” Michael said, breathing a little heavy after what was apparently an exhausting few sentences.

Ryan shook his head. “You wouldn’t have. You would have waited.”

“Don’t fucking tell me what I would and wouldn’t do, man.” Michael spat angrily and Ryan felt himself thriving on the anger.

“So you get angry about that but not the fucked up shit I’ve done?”

Michael sighed, looking to the roof. “You wanna know what fucking pissed me off the most? It wasn’t that it was your fault I got hurt and it wasn’t that you’d lied – it was the fact you _left_.” His voice turned unquestionable breathy on the last few words and the silence in the room is choking Ryan and he just needs Michael to keep talking. “I don’t care that you thought it was your fault. I care that you fucking bailed on me when I needed you.”

“But you had nurses-“ Ryan started but Michael cut him off.

“No, I needed _you_!” He yelled, as loud as anyone fresh out of hospital could, and glared across the room at Ryan. “You always preach to the rookie’s about cleaning up their own messes but the second you had one of your own you quit!”

“I couldn’t… I couldn’t do that to you. I couldn’t stick around and act like everything was okay when I knew that if it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t be in there. I needed to get-“

“What you needed shouldn’t have mattered, man! What about what I needed? Did you ever think about that? Even consider that maybe what I needed was more important?” Ryan watched as Michael blinked a few tears away. “When they lessened my pain meds, I thought I was going to die. It fucking hurt like hell. You think a fire is hot when you’re in the building and you’re in the suit and not even near the thing? It’s 1000 times worse when it’s under your skin. And I needed someone there who understood. Damn, I needed someone there who could make me forget! I needed someone who could make me laugh the pain away and that someone was you and you weren’t fucking there.”

Ryan sat quietly watching Michael speak until he looked his way and he dropped his gaze.

“Y’know, the funniest thing happened.” Michael spoke again after what felt like hours of silence. “Once, when Hannah was cleaning my burns, I asked about you. I asked her if she knew why you weren’t coming around anymore and if you were okay and she smiled and said she didn’t know why I thought she’d know. So I said that I thought you two were together and she said? She said ‘You don’t know, do you?’ and I said ‘know what?’ and she said, ‘Ryan was here almost every day of your coma. He spoke to you every day. He told you everything he was thinking about and everything he thought you’d care about’. And so I said, ‘that’s what best buddies do, right?’ and she shook her head and said she shouldn’t tell me but I wouldn’t let her drop it and eventually she said to me ‘that boy is in love with you, Michael, and it scares him half to death’ and I told her she was wrong but she was quite certain of herself, but she is wrong, isn’t she, Ryan? Because you don’t leave someone you love in a hospital, alone, burned and hurting, just because you’re too busy hating yourself to realise they need you, do you?”

Ryan’s gaze was glued to the floor and he could feel Michael watching him but he didn’t know how to respond. It was all so sudden and it made his cheeks feel warm and he just didn’t know. The realisation that he loved Michael made itself known in stages until all of a sudden the feelings were just there. And he tried to ignore them or chalk them up to some sort of friendly duty he felt he owed him but he couldn’t because every time he looked at Michael’s lifeless form he thought about how great it would be to finally kiss those lips when he was awake again.

Michael’s rough laughter broke Ryan out of his thoughts. “Typical, you can’t even give me an answer. You think you’re brave but you’re a fucking coward, Ryan, and selfish. You should have stayed. If you cared about me at all, you would have fucking stayed… we both know that I would have for you.”

Michael slowly rose from his seat on the couch and shuffled away to Ryan’s bedroom. He wanted to follow him, but his mind was working so hard on putting things together that it had forgotten how to make him move. Michael had said…but what did that mean? Now that Michael knew how Ryan felt, or thought he knew, did that mean he felt the same way? He hadn’t admitted as much, but surely…

Ryan scrambled over the back of his couch, landing on his feet as he hurried toward his bedroom in the hopes of catching Michael before he went to sleep. As he arrived in the doorway, he saw Michael standing tall in the middle of the room, shirtless and examining himself in the body-length mirror that hung inside Ryan’s wardrobe. He watched as Michael tentatively touched the healing burns and flinched away from the touch, as if they still burned as hot as the fire that made them.

“I should have stayed,” Ryan admitted quietly. “I am selfish and a coward.” Michael stared at him through the mirror and he took small steps into the room. “But I don’t want to be…”

He approached Michael from behind, their eyes locked in the mirror, stopping only once he was so close to Michael that he could touch him. Slowly, he lifted his hand and touched ever so gently at the scars on Michael’s back. Ryan didn’t know how many were from burns that had healed or were cuts from debris, but the simple action made goose bumps rise across Michael’s flesh.

“Are you going to stay?” Michael asked quietly but it sounded so loud in the silence.

“If you’ll let me.” Ryan replied, feeling nervous.

Michael turned around and Ryan’s arms fell to his sides. They watched each other closely, their eyes searching for something in each other’s face and Ryan felt a surge of courage.

“I love you, Michael. I won’t leave you again. Not until you want me to.”

Michael smiled, relieved, as if he’d been waiting for that news all day. “I don’t think I’ll ever want you to.” He admitted and Ryan leaned forward slightly, closing the tiny gap between their bodies and kissed him. It was sweet and gentle and warm and everything Ryan didn’t know he’d been craving. Michael broke the kiss first, placing his hands on Ryan’s chest and leaning out of it. “Sorry,” he whispered breathlessly, despite their kiss being relatively tame. “I just need to sit down…”

Ryan helped Michael to his bed, sitting him down on the edge. “It’s okay,” he assured him, “You need rest.”

Michael was still getting his breath back, but he looked at Ryan and shook his head. “No, I need you.”

“You’ve got me, I’m not going anywhere.” Ryan promised but Michael shook his head again.

“No, I _need_ you,” Michael emphasised and it sounded rough and unfairly sexy given his current physical condition.

“Michael, we can’t,” Ryan protested, “You couldn’t even kiss without almost passing out.”

“I don’t care, I want you.”

Ryan knew it was a bad idea. He couldn’t possibly think it was anything even close to good! But as he watched Michael get control over his breathing, it became harder to deny him what he wanted. He was the one who put Michael in this situation and the least he could do was give him some pleasure along with the pain.

“I’m doing all the work,” Ryan said, essentially agreeing, and Michael smirked at him.

“I expected nothing less.”

Ryan helped shift Michael up the bed, resting his head against his pillows, before carefully positioning himself beside him. He didn’t want to touch Michael anywhere that it hurt too much and found that the only way to do so was to lie beside him and lean over to kiss him gently. Their kisses were soft and sweet, gentle but passionate too. Before Ryan even realised it, he was growing hard in his pants just from kissing and it was enough to make him move things along.

He kissed along Michael’s jaw and down his neck until he felt Michael go rigid beneath him.

“Maybe avoid that.” Michael suggested and Ryan pulled back to see that he’d just kissed the beginning of some of his burned skin. He met Michael’s gaze and slowly leant back down, pressing his lips softly to the bumpy skin and watching the way it made Michael’s eyes flicker shut. The next few presses of lips made Michael breathe a little heavier until finally he was softly moaning each time Ryan shifted his lips further down his burned torso.

“I love you,” Ryan murmured against Michael’s skin, smiling as his goose bumps reappeared.

He hadn’t considered how far this whole thing might go, but with his lips at the end of a particularly bad burn down Michael’s stomach, Ryan became aware of just how badly Michael wanted it. He was hard in his jeans and damn was that hot. He made quick work of removing Michael’s jeans and throwing them toward his bedroom door before doing the same with his boxer shorts.

Michael gasped at the feeling of cool air against his skin and it turned into another moan as soon as Ryan wrapped his hand around his dick. He stroked him slowly, watching Michael’s face for signs of discomfort and paying close attention to his breathing just in case he was taking things a little too far to be considered totally safe.

“R-ryan?” Michael croaked and Ryan instantly stopped moving his hand. He didn’t need to ask, because he knew Michael would tell him if he was alright or not, but he was still weary anyway.

“Yeah?”

“I want… I want to feel you…” He admitted and Ryan felt the words all the way down to his toes.

“Are you sure?” Ryan asked because he didn’t want to hurt Michael and the chances of him doing that were even higher if he fucked him.

“Do you want to?” Michael questioned, as if that were an answer, and Ryan groaned and pressed his lips to Michael’s hip.

“More than anything.” Ryan answered and Michael relaxed underneath him.

“I trust you.”

Ryan smirked to himself and climbed off the bed. “I need a few things first.”

He moved to his bedside drawer, collecting the condoms and bottle of lube he kept there. He was never really sure why he bought the lube, since he’d never had need for it before now, but he was glad he had it.

Returning to Michael’s splayed and naked body, Ryan allowed himself a moment to appreciate the sight before him. “If it ever hurts, let me know.”

Michael nodded and Ryan pushed his legs apart so he could settle in the space between them. He squeezed some of the lube onto two of his fingers before clicking the cap shut and placing it down beside him. He circled his two fingers around Michael’s hole, spreading some of the lube there before sliding one finger inside. It was tight and warm and strangely intoxicating considering Ryan had no idea how the sensation would feel. Michael’s tense hole slowly relaxed around the intrusion and Ryan set to work spreading lube inside him and loosening him up. After what felt like forever, he added his second finger to add extra slick and open him up a little more.

He stretched his fingers apart slightly and heard Michael groan deeply.

“Is that okay?” Ryan asked cautiously and Michael nodded against the pillow.

“It’s great,” He breathed, “More.”

Ryan smiled despite himself, removing his fingers and pressing a kiss to Michael’s thigh before sliding off the bed again to remove his clothes. He wiped his fingers on his underwear, needing them dry to rip open the condom packet and roll it on without too much hassle. Ryan glanced up at Michael to see him watching as he squeezed lube onto his hand on worked himself up with it. Hard and slick, Ryan crawled back into place between Michael’s legs, loving the way he was still stretched out for him.

“You ready?” Ryan asked nervously and Michael nodded once more. “Tell me to stop whenever you need to.”

Michael breathed deeply and as he exhaled, Ryan slowly pushed inside him. He watched Michael’s face transform, watching his mouth tense and then fall slack as his body adjusted. When he was sure Michael was comfortable, Ryan leaned down over him and kissed him gently on the lips, holding his weight off his body and slowly rocking his hips into him.

It was painfully slow for Ryan, but any other speed would be painful for Michael and if there was anything he’d learned, it was that lessening other people’s pain is more important than your own. With every thrust, Ryan was getting a little more desperate and Michael was starting to make these noises.

“More,” Michael moaned every few thrusts or so and Ryan would pick up the speed and watch for signs of pain on Michael’s face and slow down once he thought he’d spotted one. But then Michael started pushing his hips down into Ryan’s thrusts and he started to get the picture, snapping his hips a little harder and reaching a little deeper each time.

One particular thrust made Michael arch his back up off the bed and groan loudly and Ryan stopped thinking he’d hurt him. “If you don’t keep going, I swear to fucking God-“ Michael started to threaten and Ryan snapped his hips again to shut him up, relishing in the way his best friend moaned his name.

From then on, Ryan’s caution was basically out the window. Desperation made him lean back and grip Michael’s hips tightly as he pounded into him, and before he knew it, Michael was breathing harder than Ryan had ever heard him and he wanted more. He removed one hand from Michael’s hip and brought it to his dick, tugging on him rougher than before. He quickly fell into a rhythm close to his thrusts and felt the familiar warm coil of imminent release form low in his belly.

“Fuck,” Ryan muttered as he picked up the pace of both his thrusts and his strokes.

“I’m almost there,” Michael warned.

“No,” Ryan shook his head, “We’re doing this together. We’re coming together.”

Michael made a pained noise but nodded and Ryan kept pumping and thrusting until he felt the desperation to release claw at his insides. He tried to ignore it for as long as possible, wanting to draw out the perfect moment but couldn’t hold on forever.

“Now,” Ryan told Michael who looked relieved as he finally let go and came down Ryan’s hand just as Ryan released into the condom. He maintained his movements until his body felt too worn out to continue and his cock felt sensitive and weak. Pulling out, Ryan removed his condom and disposed of it in a trash can nearby before crawling up the bed and lying beside Michael.

“I love you,” He said again and Michael laughed breathlessly.

“I know, you said.”

Ryan grinned sleepily. “I just like saying it.”

“I like hearing it.” Michael admitted.

“Only like?” Ryan asked, turning to look at him with a cocked eyebrow.

Michael smiled, leaning in to kiss Ryan deeply. “Maybe a little more than like.”

“I can deal with that,” Ryan replied, gently pulling Michael toward him. “I can deal with you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good.” Michael murmured into Ryan’s chest and they snuggled in closer to one another. No matter how hard things got or how much it pained Ryan to see Michael hurting, he knew he would stick around now because he knew that Michael needed him to. And maybe that was all Ryan needed, too. 

END


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